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DISTANT MUSIC 



DISTANT MUSIC 



BY 



EDWARD J. O'BRIEN 

Author of "White Fountains," etc. 




BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



v^ 



'^^^l.^ 



.^v 



Copyright, 1921, 

By small, MAYNAED & COMPANY 

(incorporated) 



OCT Pfi K,,,. 
§)C1,A630018 



TO 

W. S. B. 

WHO FIRST KNEW THE DREAM 



For permission to reprint certain poems in this 
collection grateful acknowledgment is made to the 
editors of The Century, Harper's Magazine, The 
North American Review, The Bookman, The Smart 
Set. The Poetry Journal, Contemporary Verse, The 
Liberator, The Midland, The Little Review, The 
Pagan, The Stratford Journal, Pearson's Magazine, 
and The Boston Evening Transcript ; and to the 
editors of the following English periodicals: The 
Nation, The New Witness, Today, and Coterie. 



CONTENTS 



The Street of Little Poets 


3 


HYMN TO LIGHT 


5 


"for he on honey-dew hath fed" 


7 


THE CRYSTAL 


9 


MALIBRAS 


12 


TWILIGHT WOOD 


14 


FLIGHT ARRESTED 


i6 


"secret laughter'' 


17 


SHAKEN QUIRE OF STARS 


i8 


THAT SKYLARK CURVING TOWARD THE SOUTH 


19 


ELEGY 


20 


THE CALL 


21 


WITCHGRASS 


22 


SENTINEL 


23 


LYDIA 


24 


SHE GOES ALL SO SOFTLY 


25 


WIND, LAUGH NOT AT THE IDLE GRASS 


26 


THE PATH 


27 


A DUSTY WAY 


28 


EPISODE 


29 


HER FAIRNESS, WEDDED TO A STAR 


30 


LIGHT CONCEALED 


31 



DUST REMEMBERED 32 

STILLED MUSIC 33 

WILD AIR 34 

APRIL FLAME 35 

FLY NOT, APRIL 3° 

APRIL AIRS 37 

THE COMING 3o 

AMICA SILENTIA 39 

DUST REKINDLED 4^ 

TO ONE FALLEN IN THE WARS 4^ 

STARBOUND 4-2 

EXIT 43 

hellenica: second series 44 



DISTANT MUSIC 



THE STREET OF LITTLE POETS 

IN the street of little poets a pedlar was crying 
moons for a penny, whose music might rule little 
tides out of words. But the little poets ivould not 
have moons, saying that they zvere cold outworn 
chilly things, and that dreams zvere free and not to 
be governed by tides. And they smiled, and breathed 
little images on quiet dust and worshipped them. 
Then a puff of zvind stole dozvn Time Street and 
caught up these little images and zvhirled them away. 
And the little poets begged for moons. But the 
pedlar had sold all his white little moons for a penny 
in the street of singing children. 



HYMN TO LIGHT 

WfND-LOVING daughter of the eternal day. 
Flooding the sky from urns of starry fire 
To leap upon the altar of our clay 

And rouse the curled flame of our desire, 
O Thou, whose liquid element hath power 

To color dreaming grasses with thy prayer, 
And curve the petals of an April flower, 

Be unto us the passion of our air. 
Thou turnest flesh to flowers and earth to flame. 

Now, in thy name. 
We shape the dust of stars into a song, 
For thou art strong. 

Here, where the glancing memory of the leaves, 

Stirred by a windless longing, dropping white, 
Patterns the tranced music midnight weaves 

Across the vanished boughs of April night, 
And where the violet-haunted pasture sleeps 

Drowsy with fragrance, be the gentle guide 
Of mystery-laden flocks the hillside keeps 

Sheltered beneath thy wonder-flooding tide. 
Thou leadest earth and wind and water home. 

The swallow to the nest. 
Open our shadow-path across the foam. 
Into the west. 

Or, 'neath the tented majesty of air 
That wraps the golden body of the sun, 

Scatter thy robes, and rise divinely fair 
Under the spreading arch of clouds that run. 

Foam-flaked, and streaming in the molten east, 
Come to us over the waters, breasting day. 
5 



Lf'^r ^^ ^^^ Bridegroom calls thee to the wedding feast. 
^^ Come with us, naked, over the fields away. 

The morning stars are ringing in the sky, 

The morning lark below. 
Shoulder the hill with us, the wind laughs high, 
The flowers of April blow. 



"FOR HE ON HONEY-DEW HATH FED" 

I KNOW a secret meadow among trees 
And water shallows where the stillness weaves 
Imponderable shadow, soft as thyme. 
Drowsy with fragrance of the morning airs 
That freight the grass with whispers, and the clouds 
With dream of windless motion, orchard bloom 
Showers the light with laughter, and the foam 
Of morning brims in chalices of flame. 
Here, when the day was rapture, came a boy 
Slipping in silence through the patterned boughs 
Tangled in sunlight dappling his fair side. 
And all his body blossomed as a flower 
With circling veins of wonder, while the sky 
Mirrored his music on the streaming air. 

"Fair guardian of the crystal-haunted ways, 
If ever thou hast cherished white desire. 
Hearken unto the lad who greets thee now, 
And in this golden chastity of light. 
Pour on my heart the flame of thy accord. 
For I was ever lonely as a wind 
And cherished thee among the foreign men. 
Come to me in the flowering of this air 
And bathe me in the fountain of the sun 
That shadows thee. So shall I be thy child." 
But out of the drifting lucidness of sky 
A shape stole perilous, and it was fair, 
Clothed in the morning, crowned with wreathed 
cloud, 



"hoZ ^dew ^"^ through the pulsing grass a little stir 
haih^'fed/' Of wind dreamed round his feet, and then was still. 
For words, clear-shaped, with silence musical, 
Breathed from his mouth and laughed upon the day. 

"Lo, I am with thee always ! White-blown dawn 
And instant noon and starry-haunted eve 
Have woven all my fairness in thy breast, 
And when the night hath laid thee on my heart, 
I clasp thee in these arms, and thou art warm." 

A cloud of ecstasy slipped from his limbs, 
And stooping, with his arms divinely fair, 
The shepherd lay beside the little lad. 



THE CRYSTAL 

"^^OW that youth's crystal shadows into age, 
-'-^ What has it left me for my heritage? 
For I was ever one whom colors move 
To worship more than form, and light above 
The tented majesty of morning air, 
And ever found my ancient dwelling there. 
In the green stillness of the Northern trees, 
Where sunlight sifts through moss-grown silences, 
A boy knelt softly, and stripped his body bare 
To the caresses of the wine-brimmed air 
That flooded in his heart and in his eyes. 
And lay caught out of time under the drifting skies. 

And when the apple orchards sang in flower 
Along the foam-skied intervale, that hour 
Sir Galahad rode by erect and pure. 
The boy dreamed of that ancient light, and sure 
That beauty crumbled white within his heart, 
Long days and nights of May he dreamed apart. 
Or in the blue-veiled dusk of folded June, 
Stirred by the opal haze of the shrouded moon, 
A swallow beating upward to the west 
Made of the hushed still wood a dreaming nest. 
Guarded by folded wings in a secret land 
Of longing, girdled with turquoise hills on either 
hand. 



Once in the morning when the first faint gleam 
Of color touched the slipping summer stream 
And stirred the water to ripples of burnished 
flame. 



"P^^ . , A pale Face shone, and calling him by name, 



Crystal. 



They travelled out of the east on a curving wind 
And left the grass-grown land of men behind. 
Flowing over the tide of light-washed cloud, 
He laughed into the sun and sang aloud. 
Past silver sentinels and starry rings 
Of seraphim to the quivering white wings 
Of the Holy Dove he flew, and in his eyes 
Reflected shone the Grail of purity's sunrise. ' 



Then dying to the sphere of clay and men. 
His heart beat in mortality again, 
The quiet round of little hopes and fears. 
Day woven upon day to shape the years. 
And in the human streets of yesterday 
He hearkened to the rhymes that children say 
Unmindful of time's harvest and the grain 
So soon to lie unreaped along the plain. 
Yet more than once he rose upon the tide 
Of memory, and a dim voice replied. 
There were two men in all that human sea 
Who stood like wave-scarred rocks above mortality. 

Clear islands, holy haunts of vanished prayer, 
Recalled him to the instancy of air 
On shadowed hills, and rainbowed silences 
Caught up the murmur of the sunset seas 
To bind his will to beauty till he died, 
And still the voice of instancy replied. 
Blue waters, golden air, and cloud-flecked sky, 
Still grasses, violets, and fields of rye 
Bending with wind and summer fruitage, light 
And tranced eternity of voiceless night 
Wove nets of wonder round his April heart. 
And they and he no more could dwell nor dream 
apart. 

10 



Faint shadows cross the limits of his page: The 

The glow fades from the dream : his heritage Crystal 
Is cast upon the waters and the wind. 
But something surely will remain behind, 
Life's testimony to the leaves of time. 
The mould may crumble, but a silver rime 
Shall dew the withering grass with euphrasy 
Of vanished flame. Gusts of eternity 
Shall blow dim mysic down the dusty lane 
He travels, and the early autumn rain 
Water the roots of dream in the dark ground 
Where day and night in flames of secret love are 
bound. 



II 



MALIBRAS 

THE sun laughed through the rain on Malibras, 
For Malibras was dead. 

And in the trooping city 

The light paused overhead. 

We shall not know the little clinging secret 

That crept behind the door, 

Nor why the slanting dust went singing gaily 

Across his face to the floor. 

But in the morning thunder leaped from the east- 
ward, 

And lightning dazzled our eyes, 

As Malibras went onward to the rendezvous 

Without surmise. 

There was a roar of cheering in the city, 

A wind of gold, 

And a swirl of air stole upward from his body, 

Exultant and very old. 

Down the winding pathways of Delauney 

The cortege turned 

To an anthill under beechtrees boled and mossy 

The light had spurned. 

And in the city of the other dreamers 

Who labor not nor spin, 

There was an arch prepared with suitable inscrip- 
tions. 

. . . He entered in. . . . 



From left to right and north to south he wandered. 

For Malibras was glad, Malibras 

And he crept throug'h a door in the twihght 

That led to the dream he had. 

Grasses curled round his eyelids, 

Roots round his heart, 

And vou may see him in the eyes of a violet 

Laughing apart. 

For the ants took th^ dust of him crumbled to grey- 

ness. 
Rut found not the rest, 

And Malibras shall win when he rouses at the trumpet 
The flame that his heart suppressed. 



13 



TWILIGHT WOOD 

THERE were two roads in Twilight Wood 
That led to a burning flower. 
He wandered to the southward vainly, 
For the trees brought him back in an hour. 
There were moons in the grass for the plucking, 
And a horse champed a field of stars, 
But the wind never answered his crying, 
For it knew how to creep through bars. 
Color sifted slowly down the branches 
Flaked with a curling foam, 
And wove a coverlid of ancient wonder 
To shroud his dream come home. 
He took the road to the eastward. 
An angel laughed in each tree. 
They combed the hair of that traveller 
With rays of white glamourie. 
The east road led to the red rose 
That burned with the lust of the dead, 
And the west road led to the red rose 
That watched by a faint green bed, 
And the red rose guarded a gateway 
Where moons and stars grew pale. 
He waited by the ivory pillars 
Till he saw a dim white sail. 
It stole over leagues of water. 
It sang over leagues of air. 
There was not a hand to guide it. 
There was no sailor there. 
Whiter than apple petals, 
Softer than April rain, 
It glided up to that gateway 
And waited to sail again. 
It shone with still-white candles, 
It gleamed with a crystal prow, 
A fragrance of lavender haunted 
The deck from stern to bow. 

14 



He stepped on that white-sailed galleon Twilight 

And the white sails belHed with wind. ^^^'"^^ 

It left the ivory gateway 
With an emerald track behind, 
And the red rose opened its petals 
And spread to the arch of the night. 

Its music hid the ship with that traveller 
Tranced on a sea of light. 



15 



FLIGHT ARRESTED 

IN Birdlip Wood a curving tree 
Stole round his shadowy heart, 
And in the vagrant rumor of the night 
His body dreamed apart. 

The wind-paled starlight sifted through the leaves 
As his fear uncurled 
Sheathed in a net of cold imaginings 
The moon unfurled. 

Golden whispers stirred beneath the birches, 
Golden answers latent there 
Idled in the slumbrous convolutions 
Of his age-stilled hair. 

If he moved but an inch, there were branches 
To bar the road for him, 
And the leaves muttered warning of another 
Caught by a swaying limb. 
False dawn came with a trembling 
That brushed his cheek from afar. 
And an echo wandered down the forest pathway 
Of a foreign dispassionate war. 
But he lay there bowed by the burden 
Of an arch that throbbed with pain, 
Till morning broke with music on his eyelids 
And the laughter of the singing rain. 



i6 



"SECRET LAUGHTER" 

THE blueflag followed his footsteps 
As he climbed the green ridge of the hill. 
It closed round him eastward and westward. 
It tugged at his will. 
Under and over his eyelids, 
It throbbed and curled in his veins. 
He was rooted at the summit of his journey, 
He was washed by the springtide rains. 
His hair opened outward to the dayspring, 
His stemmed body spread in the earth, 
And the thunder of the west wind shook his petals 
With the trembling of the forest's mirth. 
For a rumor stole through all his rushing channels : 
It ran like a flame through the field. 
The city of the blueflag was dancing, 
Though the secret of their dance was concealed. 
Delicate surmise of his coming 
Rippled like a silver flame, 
Curved under grass and blossom, 
Sounded his secret name, 

Till the wind of it smouldered down the hillside 
And died in the crash of the sea. 

He was rooted alone on that hillside 
At the edge of the wine-dark sea. 



17 



SHAKEN QUIRE OF STARS 

SHAKEN quire of stars, 
In your troubled sleep 
Why does music weep? 
All your channeled fires 
Mirror strange desires 
And forgotten wars. 
Shaken quire of flame, 
White before the Throne, 
We lie here alone, 
Mirroring dark dreams 
Of strangely clouded streams 
In the windy night; 
And the dawn is slow. 
And we do not know 
When will come the light 
Calling us by name 
Out of these our wars. 

Shaken quire of stars. 
In your troubled sleep 
Why does music weep? 



i8 



THAT^SKYLARK CURVING TOWARD THE 

npHAT skylark curving toward the south 

-■' And cn-clmg idly up the wind, 
Unmindful of the winter's way, 

Leaves melody behind, 

Proclaiming through his arch of gold 
From heaven, high to earth's deep, 
Tne wind that blows the stars to flame 
Cradles flowers in their sleep. 



19 



ELEGY 



WIND, sweep softly round his house, 
The mounded earth his pillow. 
Sway not the veined leaf 
Of his guardian willow. 

Grasses, rustle by his heart. 

Murmur, crystal stream. 
Still feet, trouble not 

The flower of his dream. 

Light, falling from high towers, 

Shadow not his rest. 
Warmth of earth and warmth of sun, 

Laugh within his breast. 



20 



THE CALL 



THE little hut in the evening 
Curled under the forest wall, 
And blue dusk mantled the starlight 
Stirred b}-- a far-off call. 

In through the dust-barred doorway 
The moon crept, strange and chill, 

As a slender flower in the springtide 
Alone on an April hill. 

In through the listening shadows 
The moon crept up to his chair, 

And a whisper stole through the forest 
As a wind stole over his hair, 

While the little hut in the evening 
Grew lonely, and very cold. 

As the face of the shepherd whitened, 
Changeless, and very old. 



21 



WITCHGRASS 



WITCHGRASS plucking at the sky 
In the golden heat, 
Thy fingers circle round my heart 
Where earth and heaven meet. 

Wilder than all driven rain, 

Clinging to the earth 
Till the granite fall to dust 

In soft-veined mirth. 

Gentler than the crumbling dusk 

Over ancient lands, 
Time shall wither ere the sky 

Forget thy laughing hands. 



22 



SENTINEL 



T stood against the air, 
A. 



A /I cypress tree, 
Rooted in watered earth 
And white eternity. 

And light sang in the sky, 

A crown of fire, 
Weaving the windy air 

To her desire. 

A slender cypress tree 
That laughed at flame, 

And white eternity 
To prove its claim. 



23 



LYDIA 



WANDER softly, ye who tread 
The grass that stirs above her head. 
Here lies Lydia in a shroud 
Whose singing once made April loud. 
Pause, remembering the light 
Of her laughter that was white. 



2J 



SHE GOES ALL SO SOFTLY 

SHE goes all so softly, 
Like a shadow on the hill, 
A faint wind at twilight 
That stirs, and is still. 

She weaves her thoughts whitely, 

Like doves in the air, 
Though a grey mound in Flanders 

Clouds all that was fair. 



WIND, LAUGH NOT AT THE IDLE GRASS 

WIND, laugh not at the idle grass 
That ripples down the field, 
It stirs with wonder as you pass, 
And all its armies yield. 

The spears of earth that bend to dust 

Shall win the morning star, 
Though all this pageantry of rust 

Be lost, as kingdoms are. 



26 



THE PATH 

HE followed the curve of the sunrise 
Till he came to the gap of the hill, 
Where the golden track to the morning 
Beckoned, very still. 

And over that ancient pathway, 
In a mist of flooding foam, 
He met the star-eyed shepherd 
Bringing his slow flock home. 

Up through the gates of magic 

They drifted, one by one, 

As the little white clouds on the hillside 

Drifted before the sun. 

Softly before their shepherd. 
They paced down the grassy rim, 
And the golden track to the morning 
Was no longer the way for him. 



A DUSTY WAY 

I SHALL come back this road some day, 
And wonder that twenty years of rain 
Have not worn the ruts that the rumbling wain 
Travelled that ancient noon of May. 

But perhaps it will not be just the same, 
And the dust that crumbled beneath my tread 
Was only the dust of a dream that had fled, 
And the blackbird's song a vanishing flame. 



28 



EPISODE 

THEY sat 
Old men 
The curtaiv 
Wavered and 



thr- in a little curve of light, 
e silence drinking tea. 
.ng inward from the night 
ic.., like twilight on the sea. 



I shall not know their dreams by candle-glow, 
Nor what they murmured, puffing drowsily. 
The dusky silence was content to show 
Three old men in the twilight drinking tea. 



29 



HER FAIRNESS, WEDDED TO A STAR 

HER fairness, wedded to a star, 
Is whiter than all lilies are, 
And flowers within her eyes more white 
Than moonlight on an April night. 

Her wonder like a wind doth sing, 
Wedded to the heart of spring, 
And April, dawning in her eyes, 
Reflects the wonder of the skies. 

Her beauty lights the April day 
With radiance of her chastity, 
And innocence doth slumber now 
Upon her candid April brow. 



30 



LIGHT CONCEALED 

WATER, weave her shining dream 
Out of cloud and air. 
Willow, mirror in the stream 
The mystery of her hair. 

Wind, bring tidings of her voice 

To the tranced field. 

So shall April light rejoice 

In her song concealed. 



31 



DUST REMEMBERED 



SHE stood alone so still 
Like light upon the grass. 
It stole away her will 
To see a shadow pass. 

She stood against the west, 
As light upon a cloud, 
And all her heart confessed 
Lay quiet in a shroud. 



32 



STILLED MUSIC 



LITTLE child, rest lightly 
In your April bed, 
Like morning stilled in showers, 
Your beauty perfected. 

Little wind, blow gently 

Across the April grass. 
And stir her golden shadow 

With music as you pass. 

Little dream, bow softly 

Across the April day. 
Her flesh shall turn to flowers 

When April turns to May. 



33 



WILD AIR 



THE brimming foam of morning 
Weaves light across the hill, 
Where wistful apple petals 
Fall soft, and very still. 

And down the curving hedgeway 
There runs a little wind 
So faintly stirred with music 
It leaves a sigh behind, 

A spray of song drops idly 
In laughter from a cloud. 

Wild air weds earth and heaven, 
And my heart is loud. 



34 



APRIL FLAME 



WIND of the foaming air, 
Ripple over my heart, 
With April flame bend low, 
Of mine a part. 

Flower of the western sky. 

Blow in my flesh, 
With April laughter mine, 

Caught in my mesh. 

Stars of the budding night, 

Shine on my brow : 
Make of these smouldering fires 

White wisdom now! 



55 



O FLY NOT, APRIL 

OFLY not, April, for the air 
With thine own loveliness is fair. 
Blow thy dream upon a cloud, 
And lightly weave for death his shroud. 
So shall spring light poised in air 
Uncover all things bright and rare. 

Blow thy dream upon a cloud, 
With flight of skylarks ringing loud 
Headlong down the laughing air 
For joy of earth and all things fair. 
So shall death lie in his shroud 
Lighter than thy singing cloud. 



36 



APRIL AIRS 



A ™PING breadth of April sky 
-^ A Fell gently to the sea 
And islanded in April airs 
One light-fringed apple-tree. 

A sky so large and full of light 
Ihree kmds of April weather 

Laughed and sighed and wept at once 
-t^or joy of earth together. 

^".d April sun and April cloud 
-^ Ana April rain were falling 
Where pulsing down his arch of gold 
An April lark was calling. ' 



y? 



THE COMING 

ROUSE from thy slumbers, lovely dreaming 
maiden : 
Rouse, for the Bridegroom is walking on the sea 
Shrouded in stars, and the wind of His footsteps 
Floods the heart of the night with His dream of 
thee. 

Light two candles, lovely white-limbed maiden, 
Meet for the bridal bed to wait for His return. 
He sent thee forth, a flower, to mirror His white 

splendor. 
Now the Bridegroom cometh, let two candles burn. 

The tide of beauty rises, even to thy window, 
White and sweet thy body, white and sweet the 

light. 
Is it the air that trembles at His footstep. 
Or thy silent heartbeat measuring the night? 

The very stillness pauses, with thy beauty wounded : 
The nearing footsteps pause before the chamber of 

the bride. 
Naked and tall and fair the Bridegroom enters. 
And gently clasps thee to His wounded Side. 



38 



AMIGA SILENTIA 

SLOW wind across the grain, 
Why are you grieving ? 
Other lands shall be fain 
When the twilight is leaving. 

Lake, shrouded in stars, 
Why are you sighing? 

There is an end to our wars, 
Though gay lads are dying. 

Light, that falls in the west, 
Why are you weeping? 

The morrow shall lay on your breast 
The flower of them sleeping. 



39 



DUST REKINDLED 



HE heard the petals falling 
Upon the rain-stilled grass, 
And shrouded light was calling 
The little cloud that passed. 

But as he softly hearkened 
A vanished cry he knew 

Came, while the twilight darkened, 
Softer than dew, 

Where underneath the willow 
His love lay in her shroud, 

The sifted earth her pillow. 
Below the drifting cloud. 



40 



TO ONE FALLEN IN THE WARS 

HE followed the ways of the wind on the twilit 
waters of Malin, 
And learned the seven dreams of the land of the 
singing rain. 
Now water is weaving the spell of his magic under 
the grass-roots, 
And the flame of earth still guards the sod where 
his light was slain. 

The weeping skies, bend softly over the twilit waters 
of Malin, 
And the light of his crumbled limbs forsakes not 
the field of his wars, 
For the April dawn shall ring with his music when 
morning unfurls to the sunflood, 
And he shall rise white on the wind, and ride with 
the morning stars. 



41 



STARBOUND 



BRIGHT arc of heaven's bow, 
Clean curve of light, 
Thy zenithed blue doth flow 
Darkling into the night. 
The cup of evening fills 
With starry foam 
Over the western hills. 
The frozen dome 
Of mystery fades to wind 
On faint still trees, 
Stark huddled rocks behind 
And withered silences. 



I SHALL go in the wind 
DoAvn Islip road, 
And no one shall mind 
The traveller's load. 

A slender tree 

Round the bend to the south 

Shall beckon to me 

In the wind's mouth, 

And the white-lipped frost 
That clings to the ground 
Knows the dream you have lost 
Shall never be found. 

The shape of it lingers 
In driven rain, 
But the earth's gray fingers 
Mould it again 

In purple bud 
And in fretted stone, 
In channeled blood 
And in crumbled bone : 

Mould it again 
In flesh and in flowers, 
'Twixt a rain and a rain 
Of April showers. 



43 



HELLENICA 

{Second Series) 

(To Vincent O' Sullivan) 



SOFT-SANDALLED Hypnos 
Pacing through the forest 
Halted his steps at the sight of a little maiden, 
Whose budding breasts 
Rose with the stir of spring. 
Now the flame-tipped crocuses in the sunlight 
Whisper her dream that slipped into the shadows. 

II 

He whose breast was a tide 
With walls of thunder, 
Now lies calm in the stillness 
Reflecting sunlight. 



44 



Ill 

Far in a secret meadow, HelUnica. 

The green sustirrus 

Of wind-patterned quiet leaves 

Echoes the dream that is stilled 

Of Hermas, whose water-music 

Murmured the beauty of change 

To the tranquil sky. 

Dancing across the locust-haunted meadows, 

Chseremon laughing sought the loud cicada, 

But water stole him. 

And now by the brook Ilissus 

He chases other dreams in golden pastures. 



45 



Hellenica Here Etherius lies 

In dreaming stillness, 

Vvho wandered far from his flocks. 

But the white susnrrus 

Of tangled boughs in a lone Sicilian valley 

Murmurs unto his heart 

Of the fields of Elis. 

VI 

Light as the dust of her beauty, 
The gentle coolness of evening 
Bathes the land 
With hushed remembrance of Scylla. 



46 



VII 

Here on the rain-washed hillside, Hellenka 

Where light dies over the grasses, 

Myrrha bears on her breast 

The little child 

Who led her home to the shadows. 

VIII 

Light shrouds his dream 

In a silver urn, 

While the dust that he forsook, 

Bears once more 

The flesh that once was longing. 



47 



IX 

Hellenica When Spring comes over the mountain 
From southern valleys, 
Mela stirs on her couch of woven violets, 
For a low wind pulls at her heart 
That the grasses cover. 



Wind, sweep gently 

Over the bent narcissi 

Bowed with the sighs 

Of a shepherd who flutes here lonely. 



XI 

Wheat-bearing earth, Hellenka 

Out of your fruitful furrows 

The harvest springs 

From the dust of dark-chambered Cleon, 

Stirred by the plough 

And warm with the light of the summer. 

XII 

Thyme, softer than ' death, 

Or the sifted dust, 

Bear to the wind-stirred grass on the mound of 

Nossis, 
The sigh of her lover, Bion, 
For your fragrance stole over the meadow 
The evening she turned to his side. 



49 



XIII 

Hellenica Twilight has veiled his eyes 
In the blue silence, 
Sophron, 

Who dreams of the morning 
And white tides. 

XIV 

Under the columned pine 

A poet sleeps, 

With the swinging arch of stars 

Making music above him. 



50 



XV 

Under an olive tree by the banks of Ilissus Hellenica 

Nossis lies, who loved her husband dearly, 
Waiting his gentle coming with her children. 

XVI 

The song in her heart is mute, 
But ancient music 

Lingers stilled in tjie light of the patterned wood- 
ways. 



5i 



XVII 

Hellenica The cry of the hoopoe resounds 
On the stormy hillside. 
And under the foamy bank 
Of the rushing river 

Bending reeds strain to the lash of the torrent, 
But the stormy heart of Archias is forever stilled. 

XVIII 

Stir not the grasses here, 

O wandering zephyr, 

For Phaon travelled far over alien foam 

Before his footsteps turned in soft contentment 

Home to the green threshold 

He had forgotten. 



52 



XIX 

spring and the coming of swallows Hellenica 

Opened her bridal day, 

But darker wings shadowed the door, 

And her spouse now mourns in vain 

By another bed, 

Where reeds sway over her pillow. 

XX 

Over the meadowways to the heart of Glaucon 

The honey-dreaming bees 

Wing their murmurous flight, 

For flame-tinged violets 

Have woven over his bed 

The fragrant dream that he guarded 

Many summers. 



SZ 



XXI 

Hellenica Nourished by secret springs 
On the foaming hillside, 
The passion of air 
Flowers in the veins of her body, 
Daphne, who left the laurelled path 
At evening. 

XXII 

Light laughs under the sighing branches, 
But the shadows are dreaming of her 
In the violets. 



54 



XXIII 

Light fades from the sky, Hellenica 

And the blue Thessalian hills 

Grieve for the glory departed 

Of one who sailed at dawn for the morning star. 

XXIV 

High on the rhododendron-crested summits 

Conon followed the stars 

To their home in the east. 

Now the south wind over the storm-bowed valley 

Sings of the centaur who passed 

Through the gates of the morning. 



55 



XXV 

Hellenica High on the purple mountain 
An eagle soars, 
But below in the valley 
Only the wind from the stars 
Remembers the flame 
Shrined immortal within this rustling hollow. 

XXVI 

Here, where the dripping leaves 

Whisper of passing feet 

To the fragrant woodways, 

The moonlight floods the forsaken tangled boughs 

With loneliness 

For Melinna, gone from the evening. 



56 



XXVII 

Here, on the windy hill, Hella 

The sunlight calls her, 

But under the dreaming grass 

Only the warm-stirred earth 

Answers the golden summons. 

XXVIII 

Here in the cloudy night 
Murmurs the wind of ocean, 
Bearing tidings of ships 
To a sailor home fro'm the sea. 



57 



XXIX 

Hcllenica Here by the rocky shore 
Of grass-strewn Aulis, 

White sheep crop the herbage of salt pastures. 
Under this gentle mound of watered earth 
Their shepherd dreams softly beside them. 

XXX 

Grey dreams 

Stir the earth-haunted eyelids 

Of Nossis, whose apple breasts 

Bloomed in the orchard 

For Chiron, her gentle lover. 

But he, forgetting the sunlight, 

Dreams in his shadow-woven bed beside her. 



58 



XXXI 

Green boughs stirring in slumber Hellenica 

Sigh at the lost remembrance 

Of Aulon, 

Golden-thighed, in the heart of the forest. 

XXXII 

Flame-tipped, sun-veined Aphrodite 

Gazed at her mirrored light 

In Corinna's fairness, 
And wove around her 

A shroud of golden air 

That mortal will might no longer drown in her 
beauty. 



59 



XXXIII 

Hellenica Flame on her body 

Bent and caressed her fairness. 
Under the riven boughs 
The moonlight is grieving, 

XXXIV 

Far-flaming airs 

From the sun-strewn slopes of Cithaeron 

Rush through the streaming trees, 

Bearing the echo of longing 

Unto the heart of Philemon 

Lonely in grass-grown ways. 



60 



XXXV 

Erinna waited upon the Thessalian hills Hellenica 

For the brown-shouldered form of her lover 

Who wandered far. 

Now white birds of longing fly from her couch of 

grasses, 
And when the swallows return 
She is alone. 

XXXVI 

Dreaming of foam, 
And the curl of wind-turned waters, 
Zonas, home from the sea, 
Smiles at the sunlight on Corinth. 



6i 



XXXVII 

Hellenica j^q^^^ the way to Acheron 
In the twilight, 
Flutes blow softly 
Bearing the memory 
Of Myrtis, lonely-breasted, 

Who wanders through the shades on her wedding 
day. 

XXXVIII 

Down by the flame-winged east 

In the grassy ways. 

Color is veining the leaves, 

But the soft-lidded eyes of Erinna 

Are one with the shadows, 

And light seeks vainly 

The flower of her maiden fairness. 



62 



XXXIX 

Dew lay bright on the grass, Hellenka 

And a purple violet opened, 

When Helen turned with a sigh 

To her mother earth, 

Home at last from the stir of foreign places. 

XL 

Comatas dreams of music in soft pastures. 

His fellow-shepherds have laid his pipe beside him. 



63 



XLI 

Hellenica Chara loosened her zone 
In the woven sunlight, 
And the grasses trembled for fear of her sacred 

fairness. 
But breast to breast 
She turned to her mother earth, 
And now when the swallows flutter around her 

pillow, 
Only the wind 
Remembers the flower of her bosom. 

XLII 

Blue-veined, sun-dreaming Baucis 

Lies at rest in the golden pastures of Hybla, 

Weaving slender flowers 

From her rain-stilled body. 



64 



XLIII 

Bird-haunted silences Hellenica 

Are troubled with wings of memory, 
But the swallow returns not 
Unto the roof of Charis. 

XLIV 

Aula, whose dreams were honey dripping softly, 

Stirs in her slumber here, 

For the sound of her lover pausing 

Brings to her heart 

The fragrance of star-haunted valleys. 



^S 



XLV 

Hellenica Algol flames 

Above his unstirred pillow, 
Singing the passion for Hellas 
That now is still. 

XLVI 

Over the violet hill, 
As the clouds drift slowly, 
Sun-drowsed lambs 
Pace in the quiet haze, 
Cropping arbutus. 



66 



XLVII 

Flushed with liquid fire Hellenica 

Of the summer noontide, 

Daulis, the lonely one, 

Paces the hill 

Where the sky and the grasses mingle. 

XLVIII 

Side by side 

In the glow of the fading twilight, 

Daphnis, a tree, and thou 

Stand gazing into the sunpath, 

Mindful of Pan 

And the air in which you are rooted. 



^ 



XLIX 

Hellenica Boughs with ripe-swelling fruit 
Bend low in the stillness, 
And light that sifts through their leafage 
Patterns the windfalls 
That drop from the burdened shadows. 



Rippling water curls around his ankles, 

Slight as a reed 

Erect in a windless pasture. 



68 



LI 

A stone in the nettled pasture Hellenica 

Flames with the sun, 

And round it poppies smoulder 

With clinging petals. 



LII 

Daphnis, with grape-stained limbs 
Lies in the shade of a cedar, 
Watching a flame-throated lizard 
Drinking the sun on a stone. 



69 






LIII 

Hellenica The sunlit face of a maiden 
Dreams in the silent west, 
Waiting the sound of a lark 
To voice the stillness. 

LIV 

Sylvan slumber 

Haunts the body of Hylas, 

So still, in truth, 

That a butterfly rests on his shoulder. 



70 



LV 

The cadenced air Hellenica 

Echoes the drowsy song 
Of a shepherd boy, 
Sun-browned, starry-eyed, 
With the wind upon him. 

LVI 

The light of spring broods on her golden side 
Sheltering under the apple boughs of noon, 
And gentle zephyrs stirring the folded blossoms 
Pattern their dreaips upon her warm brown body. 



71 



LVII 
Hellenica Iris buds, 

Violet-veined at dawn, 

Stir in the breeze 

And dream of their full-blown fairness. 



LVIII 

Clothed in mysterious evening 

The shadowy form of Erinna 

Wakens the fear of Pan 

In the wind-drowsed tree by the river. 



72 



LIX 

Foam-whirled, sun-breasting Alcina Hellenica 

Strode in the flower of her youth 

Down the slope of Cithaeron. 

Now the crested waves of the ancient forest 

Tremble for fear of her fairness 

Bathed in the light of the sunrise. 

LX 

Beholding the gleaming thighs of Archon the hunter, 

Chara slipped from the brake 

And, pausing sadly, 

Sighed that a god dreamed in the form of a mortal. 



n 



LXI 

Hellenica Cicada, pulsing alone in the summer noontide, 
Sing of wind-haunted glades 
Of mossy coolness. 
So shall my heart remember 
The tangled light 
Where I met Philemon dreaming. 

LXII 

Shadowy waters 

Under the curving moon 

Weave of their little waves 

A nest of dreams 

To snare a faun from the forest. 



74 



11 1 

1/ 



LXIII 
Flame curls Hellenica 

Out of the waning embers, 
Flutters over my heart, 
And then is ashes. 

LXIV 

The light that laughs and lilts away has petals, 
And she shall know at last the golden bridegroom. 
Tell me where within the twilit meadows 
Lingers remembrance. 



75 



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